


Stumble, Stride

by hanabimonai



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I bribe you for your feedback, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanabimonai/pseuds/hanabimonai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of unconnected Yullen/AreKan drabbles. Write a constructive review for any of my fics that are over 7k words long and I'll write you a ficlet using a prompt of your choosing. (Details inside.) Allen/Kanda/Allen, with other pairings possible.</p><p>Canon and AU.</p><p>**DEDICATED TO <b>ALL</b> OF MY REVIEWERS**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the **first chapter end note** if you'd like to know how to get me to write an AreKan/Yullen drabble for _you_. **< 3**

**The Enthusiastic Destroyer  
** _written March 2013 for **[kandayuu](http://kandayuu.tumblr.com/)**  ([original](http://kandayuu.tumblr.com/post/45882977266/beansprout-kanda-called-mmm-vibrated-blissfully))_

***

"Beansprout," Kanda called.

"Mmmmm…" vibrated blissfully from lips moving up his throat.

_"Beansprout,"_  he repeated reluctantly as fingers slid under his shirt.

_"Mmmmmm!"_ was the enthusiastic response from the nape of his neck.

"Allen!" he tried, emphatic.

"Kanda?"

He did his best to fix Walker with a stern look. “Left hand. On my pants.  _Don’t."_

"What? B-but after  _all this time!"_

"No, you’ll WRECK them AGAIN, damn Destroyer of Clothes!"

"Oh. Right."

Rolling his eyes, Kanda swapped left and right.

"There."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so here's the deal. I've posted three chapters of short (less than 1000 words each), unconnected Yullen/AreKan drabbles right away, but I'd like to request something of all of you before I come up with more…
> 
> If there are any of my medium-to-long (let's go with 7000+ words) fics of mine that you like enough, I would so appreciate some **_constructive criticism*_** on those works that **I'll write YOU a yullen/arekan drabble on a topic of YOUR choosing and post it here in this collection**. ( **I won't do non-con, shota, or other tropes I am uncomfortable with, however! I'm also keeping this story collection T-rated.) By the way, I'll gladly accept crits for No.6 fics as well, if you don't mind getting an Allen/Kanda/Allen fic back. (I will consider other pairings or otherwise doing more for those who go above and beyond.)
> 
> In the past I have been so fortunate as to receive so many kind, encouraging reviews, and I hope to continue to receive those (!), but I'd really like to improve further, and so truly need advice. Even if it turns out it's not quite what I'm looking for, you will be giving me perspective on reader expectations at the very least!
> 
>  ** _*About that concrit:_** Almost anything is good, though I'd prefer if people had a basic idea of my style and personal preferences (as outlined on my profile) before they start. Most importantly; I express character thought/emotions indirectly through their actions and subtly through their words; also I write romance but not BL, so no seme/uke roles. Those are aspects of my writing style I am not likely to want to change.
> 
> What I'd *especially* be thrilled about are comments that address any patterns or inconsistencies you notice in plotting, character development, theme building, etc.. For example, does a character's pattern of behaviours not match the direction he or she is developing in? Is there a plothole or continuity error I don't appear to be aware of?
> 
> If that's too much, then whatever else you can manage would be great. Yet if you seem to get my writing style and/or what I'm going for as I write and can address those things, I will probably be more inclined to do extra writing, alternate pairings or otherwise do more for you, because you'll have exceeded my expectations! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A Change in the Forecast  
** _written May 2013_ _for **[kandayuu](http://kandayuu.tumblr.com/)**  _ _([original](http://hanabimonai.tumblr.com/post/49908163550/randomcuteotaku-replied-to-your-post-need))_

***

"Allen! Hey, I—"

"Oh-hi-Lavi-sorry-no-time-to-talk- _bye!"_  Allen zipped through the hallway and around the corner like a stray leaf in a windstorm.

"Was that Allen?" Lenalee approached just in time to catch a glimpse of the passing blur.

"The red-faced guy who just flew past? Yep."

"Why was he  _hopping_  like that? Was that a  _limp?_  I hope he and Kanda weren’t  _fighting_  again…" The clipboard previously held firmly to her chest dropped loose at her side.

"It might be a little more complicated than a ‘fight,’ from what I can tell." All Lavi had to go on were first impressions, but his eye was keener than most. “I expect they’ll be back to normal in a minute, though…"

"What’s  _that_  supposed to mean?" She narrowed her eyes. “Spill it, Lavi."

Mugen drawn, a wrathful Kanda stumbled through the hallway now, evoking all the warmth and calm of a rain of hailstones. “IDIOT BEAN SPROUT, COME  _BACK_  HERE!"

"Now there, that was  _almost_  normal."

"Uh huh," Lenalee sighed. “I bet you think I didn’t notice."

Lavi’s eyebrows perked up with interest.

"His clothes. They were too short— in the arms and legs."

"Yes. Yes they were. Very good eye, Miss Lenalee Lee."

She poked a playful, accusing finger at her counterpart’s chin; “Don’t you underestimate me, Lavi Bookman…  _Jr."_

***

Finally managing to reach his room, Allen sighed in relief.

_Now what the bloody hell am I supposed to do with these clothes?_

_"Goddamnit, Beansprout!"_  Kanda was closing in fast. Well at least they could  _do_  something about the situation now.

"Shut it, Idiot Kanda!" He shouted through his door. “If you do, I’ll let you in here to change clothes, okay?"

_Oh what am I thinking, it’s Kanda! He’ll just—_ Allen opened the door just in time to block Kanda’s slash at it with his left arm. “What do you think you’re doing to my door?"

"Give back my clothes!"

"Didn’t I just tell you to shut up and I  _would_  do that? Oh never mind, just get inside, will you?"

He made room for Kanda to enter. Thankfully, he finally resheathed Mugen at this point.

"The hell are you doing wearing my stuff?"

"Obviously I couldn’t see what I was putting on when the light went out in the baths, you  _git!"_

"It’s  _your_  fault it went out in the first place!"

“ _Your_  sword cut the lantern apart."

“ _You_  pushed my arm that way."

"Okay it’s  _both_  of us at fault, all right? Now take your clothes and  _go!"_

"You… have to get  _out_  of them first… loser…" Kanda grumbled at the floor.

"Gladly… so get out of  _mine_ … y-you ass."

"Tch. As if you need to  _ask!"_

Without further words, they turned backs to each other and began to undress. Once Allen was down to nothing but Kanda’s dress shirt; Kanda only left trying to peel Allen’s pant legs off again, Allen couldn’t help looking (again), only to find Kanda staring right back.

Kanda smirked, eyes darting below and back up to Allen’s eyes again. “My shirt is like a  _dress_  on you, bean sprout."

"Says the guy who’s all bent over, trying to pull off my trousers." His face reddened in his horror at what he said. “And I told you downstairs, it’s  _ALLEN!"_

Though not the best idea at the time, the young Exorcist lunged at his colleague in a fit of embarrassment and frustration, pinning his rival to the floor with his own pair of pants. Yet Allen had barely a moment to relish this triumph before he was flipped onto his back; arms now bound with Kanda’s shirtsleeves, which should have totally not mattered at all to his ability to retaliate. Except now he also had a  _very_  closeup view of Kanda’s  _unclothed_  chest. Every millimetre of its lit and shadowed slopes and planes that he had hardly seen all that much of in the baths actually, come to think of it— not that he was  _trying!_  Then there was that intriguing black tattoo reaching from heart to shoulder. The inked surface resembled no form of life yet  _almost_  seemed to pulse and respire at those few times he’d glimpsed Kanda exerting himself or recovering after having shredded apart Exorcist’s attire on the field of battle. Did Kanda have that ‘ohm’ there because he liked to meditate? No, that couldn’t be it, that was stupid. Wait,  _why_  was he thinking about this kind of thing just now…?

Allen gulped a little, realizing he was liking this position a little more than he probably  _should_. And Kanda’s scent. He was clean with soap from the baths but there was also something  _more,_  something warm… and  _exciting._  Then Allen noticed the intensity of Kanda’s stare; the way it kept wandering up and down the form of his body, silhouetted under Kanda’s button-up top. He swallowed hard while his counterpart chewed at his own lip.

_Kanda biting his lip?_

***

Later, Lavi observed Allen descending like a feather as he floated down to dinner, where Lenalee was seated next to a Kanda calm as a pebble at the bottom of a still pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha! Wondering what happened in Allen's room? There is an extended version on **[my tumblr](http://hanabimonai.tumblr.com/stumblestride)**.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Haircut  
** _written May 2013 for **[atailof2cities](http://atailof2cities.tumblr.com/)**  ([original](http://hanabimonai.tumblr.com/post/49988820574/atailof2cities-replied-to-your-post-need)) **  
**_

*******

“I won!” Allen panted, triumphantly straddling a reeling Kanda while pumping his fists in the air. “You’re down. You went down first… I  _won!”_

“Tch.” Kanda simply scowled and looked away even as he lay sprawled on his back on the training room floor. Composed though he still seemed to be, Allen figured that was just  _his_  way of looking defeated.

“Ya sure did, bean sprout.”

“Don’t call me that, Lavi.”

“Will you get the fuck  _off_  already?”

“Suck it, Kanda.”

“Save that for bed time, guys.” Lavi winked at the pair, who were now united in glaring at him. “Hey, didn’t you have a bet going ‘bout what happens to the loser?”

“I didn’t lose.”

“Whatever, Kanda. Doesn’t look like that from  _here.”_

“Shut up, bean sprout,” Kanda answered simply, pushing up and sliding out of his partner’s slackened grip.

“One day, Kanda,” Allen began, dusting off as he stood up, “I promise you you’re going to—”

“Yeah so what kinda bet was it again, Allen?”

“Huh?” Allen returned his attention to Lavi and the disturbingly wide grin he had on at the present moment. “The usual, I guess. Shaving off the hair.”

“Of course! This time it wasn’t a draw, and you weren’t interrupted either. Sorry Yuu, guess now Allen’s finally gotten his way, he gets to hack off that long, shiny  _mane_  of yours…”

“Wait, that’s—” Allen started without even realizing what he was saying.

“That’s  _what,_  Allen?”

“N-nothing,” he answered, blanching as a certain realization began to dawn on him.

“Tch.” Kanda whipped his upturned nose away in scorn. Some loosened wisps of hair flew over his shoulder to follow it, falling over his face.

Allen gulped and swiped his palms on his pants nervously.

_I won…_

***

Allen admired the bluish lustre of the strands flowing down the back of the chair where Kanda was seated. He twirled some across one palm and watched it glide back into place, sighing.

“No need to keep waiting for the damn rabbit. Just get  _on_  with it.”

“W-well, Lavi would be  _awfully_  disappointed if we—”

“Quit stalling.”

“I’m not  _stalling!_  I just…”  _cannot go through with this._

“Would you  _stop_  fucking doing that!”

Unconsciously, Allen had apparently begun playing with Kanda’s hair again.

“S-sorry,” he replied sheepishly. Then he trailed fingertips lightly down Kanda’s arms, underneath them, and up his back. There, a certain cool, familiar curtain rose over the backs of his too-warm fingers. “It’s just…”

“What?” Kanda prompted, grabbing Allen’s wrists firmly, but without malice, as they finally reached his shoulders.

“It’s… your  _hair_ …”

“And…?”

“I…”

Kanda gave Allen a look that he supposed was meant to be challenging, but which he found incredibly seductive instead. “Well?”

_“Please_  don’t look at me like that,” Allen asked softly, hyper-conscious of how close they were as a result of his arms being held in a loop behind his boyfriend’s back. Normally he’d enjoy a little teasing, but under the current circumstances, this was akin to  _torture_.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re daring me to…”

“And what if I  _am?”_  Kanda murmured, lips drawing closer to Allen’s as he leaned forward.

_What the—?_

“Okay okay okay, I  _can’t_ , alright? I love your beautiful bloody hair,  _alright?”_

Kanda smirked and let go just as Lavi burst into the room; Lenalee hot on his heels. Allen stumbled back a bit, confused.

“Not too late, are we? Oh good, the big chop’s not done yet!” Lavi confirmed gleefully.

“Bean sprout chickened out.” Kanda crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.

Blushing up a storm, and still more affected by the past few minutes’ contact than he’d like to admit with others in the room, Allen beelined for the nearby window.

“See, Yuu? Just as I thought!”

“Boys, don’t you think this has gone far enough already? I mean poor  _Allen_ …” Lenalee appealed.

“Tch. This  _has_ gone on for too long already.  _I’ll_  do it.”

And with a blindingly fast and fluid motion, the swordsman used his beloved Mugen to lop off almost all of his hair.

“Noooooo!!!! Kanda, how  _could_ you? You weren’t supposed to— Oh my  _God!”_

Lost hair lay still and fanned out on the floor; a casualty of war.

***

Allen spent much of the rest of the day mourning in silence and solitude, and trying to make sense of the tragedy that had transpired, until he found Kanda again at the dinner table…

“You  _let_ me win? You… you… you  _ass!_  As if I even needed your help!” Allen cried, but his attentions were diverted toward glancing across the back of Kanda’s neck.

“It was the rabbit’s idea,” his interlocutor calmly pointed out. “So that spar doesn’t count.”

“Chill. No harm done, right? That  _luscious_  hair’s all there isn’t it, Allen?”

And so it was. Because evidently, much like with his injuries, Kanda’s hair grew back miraculously fast— and thick, and  _perfect_ — within hours.

“You set me up.  _You set me up!”_  Allen repeated, outraged. “I’m going to murder you both…”

Lenalee rolled her eyes. “See, I  _told_  you that was too cruel, guys.”

_“Murder_  us? You can’t even harm a hair on Yuu’s head!”

“Don’t use that name, idiot rabbit!”

Allen plotted glorious revenge against the soon-to-be-bald Lavi in his head for a while, but by the end of his mealtime, all he could think about was being reunited with a certain someone. Or rather, his  _hair._


	4. Tied Together

**Tied Together**   
_written July 2013 for **[thegenuineimitation](http://thegenuineimitation.tumblr.com)**_

***

When Allen wakes, all is quiet and still.

He’s barely able to part his eyelids even in near-total darkness, but hardly needs to be fully alert in order to recognize the dead of night. It’s a time he recognizes easily, in a place where he’s seen it often. The only movement about him is cool air passing over his single exposed cheek. It chills him, but not so much so as his recurring memories of all those he ultimately never  _saved;_  the same ones whom Allen cannot help by shrinking beneath the blankets. Why is the window open?

 _Kanda._  He blinks past his grogginess.  _He’s left already._

He pulls the covers tighter around himself, inhaling their warmth through his nose. Then he lets go, pushing his battle-stiff limbs out all at once, with a voiceless yawn.

***

Kanda hones his senses to match the precision of Mugen’s blade as he performs his morning ritual. Disruptions in the air around him; changes in temperature; everything; all of it processes easily even as he moves blindfolded in the freezing darkness. He  _knows_  without needing to hear the purposeful yet muted  _scrunch scrunch scrunch_  of unguarded footsteps.

Slivers of light from the freshly risen moon begin to bend through the trees differently, hitting his arms at new angles as the expected figure draws nearer. Kanda doesn’t react, however. He continues to practise his forms; remains mindful to changes in his environment. As opportunities arrive, he bisects the odd falling leaf, swiftly pins a rolling twig without leaving a visible mark. He moves economically, aiming to never waste time or energy on even the most insignificant shifts of muscle.

In effect, he is training to improve the flow of his actions; and balance the use of his strength.

***

Allen isn’t sure how much time has passed when the dimly lit figure of his bedmate finally approaches. Right now, he’s sitting on the ground with his back against a tree. Kanda kneels down and faces him directly; eyes calm. Allen’s gaze meets his without a thought. At the same time, one corner of his lips perks upward. “Good morning, beautiful."

 _"Hey."_  Kanda sounds pissed despite the compliment.

"Did Mr. Grumpy need a little more sleep this morning?"

 _"Beansprout,"_  he warns.

"Hair’s looking great today."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Did you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don’t think many people would notice, but…  _I_  have. I…" In a smaller voice, he hesitantly adds: “It… makes me happy… to see you wearing something of mine."

"Our clothes were jumbled together, you freak. I could hardly  _find_  anything in that mess."

_"So?"_

"Your stupid ribbon was right  _there,_  so I just…  _took_  it _._  Next thing I knew, I was already tying my hair up as I stepped out of your room, and—" Kanda explains quickly, turning away. “I wasn’t about to go digging through everything to… I’m just going to take it out when I go to wash up anyway!"

Allen decides to leave out the part about how Kanda’s usual hair tassle snapped in two right in his eager hands, the night before… so he threw it under the bed.

"Like I said, it looks  _good_  on you…" He takes a step forward to slide fingers into Kanda’s long ponytail, fingering its atypical binding. There is sadness evident in his lowered voice as Allen speaks again: “Wish we could… I mean I wish you could wear it  _all day."_

He smiles sentimentally, leaning in for a kiss. Exactly as their lips meet, Kanda squeezes his shoulder hard:  _‘Watch it while we’re out here,’_  that less pleasant touch communicates, and Allen sighs, backing off after barely having tasted his lover’s lips.

"Right. I… s’pose I should let you  _be_  then. But whenever you’re done with it, please—"

"Tch. I  _know_  it’s your favourite cravat, Beansprout," Kanda scoffs, even rolling his eyes as if it were plainly obvious. “You’ll get it back."

***

Kanda has bathed and changed into a fresh set of clothes for breakfast. Marie and Miranda join him, grinning to each other one after the other— like they know something he doesn’t. He scowls, and Miranda’s head dips down so she can concentrate on her meal. Marie rubs her back encouragingly, then turns to his own morning platter. Jeryy is all insufferable smiles, visiting their table often.

During a one-on-one debriefing with Komui, the Branch Head is wearing an especially silly smile, himself. Kanda asks: “Hey. Something funny?"

 _"Funny?"_  Komui begins with a sly tilt of the head, “No, no, not at all!  _Why would you ask such a thing?"_

On the training grounds late that afternoon, Kanda can’t overlook it even if he wants to when he sees a red-faced Chaoji wailing on an strangely  _listless_  Allen. Conveniently, no one else happens to be around. The ‘spar’ comes off one-sided, with Walker not really putting in a proper fight, and only barely defending himself. “The  _fuck?"_

"Ah, Kanda!" Chaoji blurts as soon as his bloodshot eyes light on the swordsman— noticing Kanda where he stands balking.

Allen Walker isn’t looking at  _anyone_. His eyes aren’t even focused, and it’s pitiful—  _inexcusable._

"You’re only going to tire yourself out by fighting like  _that_ , newbie _._  Lucky for you  _this guy’s_  not even trying. Cool your head." Kanda knows he needs to take his own advice. He’s been  _working_  on it. Lately getting better about it.  _Maybe._

"R-right… sorry," Chaoji apologizes, bowing his head somewhat.

"Anyway, if it’s a  _real_  spar you want, then forget this idiot and take  _me_  on."

"What?"

_"Oi, Baka-Moyashi!"_

"Huh?" Allen returns to the present, focusing again on the two Exorcists nearby. His eyes widen. “Kanda—?"

"Get out of here,  _Moyashi._  You’re not up for this right now."

"Um, Kanda, you—" but Walker just stops there and stares. Apparently conflicted about coming out with whatever’s on his mind, He abruptly turns to leave instead. “No, nevermind."

"Hmph." Kanda faces his fight partner for the day.  _This will be over quickly._

Dinners are finished. Lavi and Lenalee— freshly rested up after the same mission Allen just returned from— had asked him how Allen was recovering. They couldn’t find him in the  _usual_  places. How was  _he_  supposed to know?

Before Kanda’s knuckles can rap against the wood a second time, Allen Walker opens his door.

"You’re  _still—?"_

"I’m still  _what?"_

"Did you— Oh just come  _in_  already!" Allen roughly drags his visitor into his room by one side of his Chinese-style collar, shutting the door with his foot behind them. Kanda smooths it out as he waits for his counterpart to continue his question. “You uh… you know you’re still wearing my—?"

"Oh. Yeah, I know."

"You—" He points to the top of Kanda’s head, “It’s… not on  _accident_  then?"

Kanda feels the need to  _explain_  himself. And he hates it. “I forgot and went to the baths without a new one. From there it was going to be a pain in the ass to—"

Allen silences Kanda with a rude but swift and, well, not  _unwelcome_  kiss; hands gripping his shoulders. Kanda rests his own arms around Allen’s waist.

"What was that for?" Kanda asks as Allen hugs him and simply hangs off his shoulders.

"You went through your whole day with— while wearing my— it was in your hair the whole time? Even in the  _training grounds?"_

"Yeah, whatever."

 _"Kanda…"_  Allen kisses him again, evidently unable to get his message across through words, so much as with a longer kiss, and fingers massaging Kanda’s shoulders; up the nape of his neck, to—

Allen’s pressed to his front now, and it occurs to Kanda this is probably the most enthusiastic he’s  _been_  all day. Maybe even since  _last night._

_Not bad…_

It seems he’s about to remove that satiny strip of red fabric he’s gotten so excited about, but then; “No."

"No  _what?"_

"No, keep it on." It’s a deceptively sweet smile he has on now…

"Okay…"

"Everything  _else_  comes off."

"Fucking perv."

Allen laughs aloud, and tugs on Kanda’s unresistant arm.

“Thanks."


	5. Not Normal, Not Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's the second of two I'd earlier promised to **thegenuineimitation**. Note _this is not the complete story!_ As previously stated I'm keeping the FFn and AO3 versions T-rated or under, so go to my tumblr (hanabimonai.tumblr.com) for the *complete* version of this M-rated story!

 

"I need to add you to a mission," Komui had started. The Branch Head then took an anchoring sip of coffee, and Kanda was immediately apprehensive.

_Add?_

"So?" Kanda glared as the mug touched down on a neglected piece of paperwork.

"We think we've found a Broker. We don't know for sure but _someone's_ killing everyone in the vicinity that even vaguely resembles an Exorcist or Finder. Clergy that have been there for years are only _barely_ safe themselves. We tried sending qualified Finders at different times to take undercover positions as men of the cloth, but… none survived." Komui's face disappeared into his hands as a wrinkle formed on Kanda's brow.

_Jesus. So that's why?_

"I'll read the rest." He should have been the one with this mess assigned to him in the first place. "When do I leave?"

"Hold on, I said I was _adding_ you to a mission, remember?"

"What?" _He didn't mean the ones who died?_

"Actually I'm… assigning you to work _with someone else_. We've spent some time discussing mission details already and, well, I refuse to let him go alone because it's—"

_"Who?"_ He grit his teeth. "Who is it?"

"Allen Walker," the beret-wearing shit half smiled.

_Fucking hell._

**XOX**

"Kom'i said," Walker begins abruptly, with mouth way too full; "Back in th' day, 'e used t' send m' Master for jobs like this."

"Do you have to fucking eat, breathe, and talk all at the same time?"

"Sorry, I—" he gulps everything down at once and swallows some water "—was _hungry!"_

Kanda rolls his eyes, but then also has a good look around the tavern. It's busy, but every table is its own world. Or multiple iterations of the _same_ world: ordinary men, and a few women too, enjoying a night's respite in drunken camaraderie before returning to the mundane details of their day-to-day lives. Meanwhile he and _Walker_ were…

He looks back to his mission partner and just about jumps out of his chair in shock. _Again._ He's never getting used to this disguise with the dark hair, no scar, no distinguishing marks of any kind…

"Kanda you're _staring._ "

Hastily, he picks up his drink and the table shifts at Walker's end.

He can hear the smirk in the idiot's voice as he adds: "People might get the wrong idea."

Kanda puts down his drink, and the table slumps back where it was. The abomination of short, dark waves sitting on his _own_ head swishes around, exaggerating his movements.

"Like I said, Master usually got these kinds of jobs, I'm told. Doesn't surprise me…"

"Why… him?" He chances another look at Walker, having readied himself this time.

"Connections… and ability to blend in with his surroundings…" Walker's eyes are still his own at least, even if their lashes and brows are painted. Those eyes seem distant.

Kanda's head dips sideways at the sheer incongruity. "Is that why _we're_ the ones out here being so fucking obvious only a couple of towns over?"

_Clunk._ His counterpart's glass touches down and their crooked table tilts again.

_"Do I look like my Master to you, Kanda?"_ Even Timcanpy looks offended, somehow glaring at him from the slightly uplifted end of the tabletop.

_"What?"_ Something about that question has them _both_ agitated.

"I may know a few people here and there but I'm not quite the networker my Master was and I've never had the ability to hide _all_ traces of my presence— haven't ever _wanted_ to, really. And besides, for someone like me, that's not…" he trails off.

Kanda raises his eyebrows and lifts his chin, expectant.

"Never mind."

**XOX**

Their innkeeper greets them warmly and asks with great interest where they're headed. Walker gushes of a grand beach side town a great distance past their actual destination, and pays in cash rather than invoking the name of the Order.

"Spill it, Beansprout." Kanda asks as Walker stretches on their hotel room floor. "Your plan. You must have one. For once."

"Yes. 'Show up, and take out the bad guys.' Simple enough for even _you_ to understand!" He grins.

"You little shit," Kanda's hand goes to Mugen. By reflex. He is still more irritated by the painted-on face than the actual _expression_ on it, or even the words coming from it.

"Now now," Walker grips the blade preemptively with his Innocence hand. "Weren't you planning on bathing before turning in?"

**XOX**

Kanda wakes up in bed. _The hell? I was in the bath— It was a fight—!_

Walker is snoozing on a chair by his bedside. When Kanda tries to sit up, he's only met with intense physical pain.

" _Khh—!"_ He grits his teeth and after a moment, the pain fades. He's healing as usual but there are some severe injuries to take into account. He remembers a crowd of cowards; faces loosely covered in cloth; gaps around the eyes. Inelegant executioners with odd blunt objects like a dirty steel pipe and a walking stick. He took quite a few out with his bare hands and feet, but more just kept coming…

Walker stirs awake… and promptly falls to his knees on the floor. He looks a mess but at least the makeup's washed off and the wig is gone.

"Kanda, I'm so _sorry."_ _Oh for fuck's sake._ The brat's been crying, if his voice is anything to go by. Add that it's probably thanks to _him_ that Kanda isn't dead or captured right now and this confession makes for a terrible headache… "This is all my fault…"

"They just… waited for one of us to be alone and unarmed," Kanda rasps out, and Walker is instantly pouring him a glass of water from a waiting pitcher. Timcanpy arrives with a wet washcloth for his forehead.

"But still—"

"You'd think they'd at least wait to be sure we were Exorcists before—"

"Yes, but—"

"Shut up, Beansprout. I'll be fine by morning."

Walker grips his hand from below, sniffling a little. Kanda… lets it be.

**XOX**

Half the town and even some of its neighbours are rotten, they soon find out. But there was nothing so elaborate as a Broker here at all. It was a cult. An underground of impossibly ignorant people, worshipping the Earl of the Millennium as a god. The Earl himself probably had no idea. Kanda had never found a bunch of people so gullible in his life, whipped into zealotry by their 'charismatic' leader. Yet some had killed Church clergy and non-combatant Order members in the midst of their fervour, and even attacked Kanda while he was hidden and disguised. Such events couldn't be ignored.

So they round up the ones responsible and report them to the Order, and Allen receives special permission to create an Ark gate. The local parish priests are immensely grateful. Kanda is just glad to ditch the wig and head back. When they first arrive, however, he finds himself staring at Walker again.

That face, that dark hair…

"Couldn't you have gone with a lighter colour or something?"

"Kanda, do you think I was _born_ with white hair?"

He doesn't know what to say.

"You know what? Never mind, don't answer that," Walker shakes his head slowly. "I was… just trying to look _normal_."

"There's nothing _normal_ about you."

"Jesus. _Not everyone can be as perfect as you, okay?"_ He stalks off for his room, tearing his wig off along the way. A frantic Timcanpy flutters along behind.

*******

Kanda can't sleep that evening. He can't stop thinking, and meditation is impossible. There's no way he'd be able to concentrate well enough to train properly at this rate.

Somehow he finds himself knocking on Walker's door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please hit up [my tumblr](http://hanabimonai.tumblr.com/stumblestride#05) if you'd like to read the rest!
> 
> Feedback always appreciated. Especially if people can tell me if I'm being too subtle, hiding character motives as I do.


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